SILVER PALOMINO

I was barely 13 years old 
She came out of the Guadalupe's on a night so cold 
Her coat was frosted diamonds in the sallow moon's glow 
My silver palomino 
Sixteen hands from her withers to the ground 
I lie in bed and listen to the sound 
Of the west Texas thunder roll 
My silver palomino 
I track her into the mountains she loved 
Watch her from the rocks above 
She'd dip her neck and drink from the winter flows 
My silver palomino 
Our mustañeros were the very best, sir 
But they could never lay a rope on her 
No corral will ever hold 
The silver palomino 

In my dreams bareback I ride 
Over the pradera low and wide 
As the wind sweeps out the draw 
'Cross the scrub desert floor 

I'd give my riata and spurs 
If I could be forever yours 
I'd ride into the serrania where no one goes 
For my silver palomino 
Summer drought come hard that year 
Our herd grazed the land so bare 
Me and my dad had to blowtorch the thorns off the prickly pear 
And mother, your hand slipped from my hair 

Tonight I wake early the sky is pearl, the stars aglow 
I saddle up my red roan 
I ride deep into the mountains along a ridge of pale stone 
Where the air is still with the coming snow 
As I rise higher I can smell your hair 
The scent of your skin, mother, fills the air 
'Midst the harsh scrub pine that grows 
I watch the silver palomino